Chapter Nine

The silence that followed the collapse of the wall was somehow worse than the original noise. For a moment neither Mark nor Justin moved but then, almost together, they were spurred into action and, after carefully laying Steve down on the ground, the young FBI agent turned, without a word, and rushed back the way he had just come.

"Justin … you have to wait … it isn't safe!" Mark called out, knowing that his son needed him, knowing that Jesse had to be saved but also knowing that he had to try and keep his companion with him until backup arrived.

"Mark, the wind is getting stronger by the minute. I have to get him before the whole building collapses." Justin paused just long enough to turn and explain his reasoning before continuing on his way. As he entered what remained of the warehouse again though he heard a voice and then a hard hat was passed to him.

"You'll need this." The voice was soft but full of authority and as he looked into the eyes of Detective Banks, Justin realised that he had desperately wanted company.

For a moment Mark was unable to even touch his son; he had been so sure Steve was dead that even when he had been lain down and the slight rising of his chest could be seen he still hadn't believed it.

Carefully, almost reverently, Mark reached out a hand and placed it on his son's bruised cheek and then, with a strangled sob, he began to evaluate his condition.

It was clear that the right shoulder was, once again, dislocated and Mark knew that this time there would be no manual replacement it would require surgery and extensive physical therapy. The shoulder though wasn't his main concern, the sound of his son's breathing was very worrying and he knew, just from experience, that there were broken ribs and possibly, once again, a punctured lung.

"Oh, Steve, look what she's done to you. I am so sorry, so very sorry." As Mark spoke he saw the wind tug at Steve's hair causing it to move softly and felt his son stir slightly then, with a groan which cut to the very heart of his father, Steve's eyelids fluttered and he looked up.

"Dad?" The word was faint, almost non-existent, but it was all Mark needed.

"It's alright, Son, it's alright. I'm here, this time I'm here."

Steve's face, which had been contorted with pain as he began to come to, relaxed completely and then he smiled. "I … I knew you … would be."

ooo

"Where is he?" Cheryl was glad that she and Justin could speak to each other through their headsets, that way they didn't need to shout, nor did they need to stop when they had something to say.

"Top floor or he was." Justin realised that, with the collapse of the front wall, there may well no longer be a fourth floor and so, as they reached the third level landing, he peered through the dust and sure enough he could see straight up to the clear blue sky above. "Dammit, here, he's gonna be in here somewhere."

It was obvious that Justin wasn't going to be able to just pick up Doctor Travis and remove him from the building like he had Steve Sloan. "We need a rescue helicopter. I'd use mine but it doesn't have a winch."

"I'm on it." Cheryl placed her hand over her ear, pushing the speaker closer to her head and, as Justin carefully made his way further into the room, he heard her requesting air assistance.

Jesse was lying amidst a pile of rubble and was, even from a distance, clearly unconscious. Justin knew that neither he nor the female detective had the experience to move him and so instead he gingerly edged closer and closer so that he could, at least, speak with the young man and hopefully get through to him that he wasn't alone.

ooo

"Detective, I want you to go down to the ground and wait for the chopper. This floor is already unstable, if I come back towards you it could give way, but if you join me I think it definitely will." Justin was feeling extremely vulnerable and he hoped that it didn't sound in his voice, but Cheryl had begun to make her way into the room after sending out her instructions for a Medivac chopper as well as other back up in case they needed it, and he didn't want to have to rescue her as well.

Cheryl looked across at the young agent and then the figure lying prone beside him. She wasn't that well acquainted with Jesse Travis, but what she did know of him she liked. The most important thing though was that he was Steve's best friend, and if Jesse died because he had saved Steve she knew her partner would never recover from the loss.

The sensible thing was to go down, to co-ordinate the rescue attempt from the ground, and so she nodded her head and turned away, but all the time felt she was running from the situation.

The relief that Justin felt when he saw Detective Banks do as he requested was enormous. He had cancelled his own request for back up knowing that there was nothing anyone could do to help without the assistance of a chopper. Now all he had to worry about was the unconscious man he had come to rescue and himself. Justin didn't know much about any of the people he was working with, but he did know that there was a bond between them which was as strong as steel. He hoped it would be enough to get them through.

The building suddenly shuddered and a shower of bricks cascaded down behind him. He instinctively lay over Jesse to protect him and said a silent prayer for a speedy end to their ordeal.

ooo

The sound of the helicopter was such a welcome one that Mark had to swallow down the sob which threatened to escape him. He hadn't had to treat his son at all and, although he would have done anything necessary to save Steve, he remembered what Jesse had had to do the last time and knew he would be eternally grateful for that.

The chopper would have the facilities aboard to enable any invasive work to be held off until they arrived at Community General. Mark could see the state in which his son had been left, not only all the awful wounds, which he didn't think he could focus on and stay objective, but also the dust and dirt that covered him. His son was still weak from the infection and injuries of his previous ordeal and Mark was already mentally working out what antibiotics he would prescribe when they were safely at the hospital.

Two medics arrived with their gurney and this time Mark was ready to step aside. He winced and gasped in pain as he stood up and a young woman, whom he thought he recognised but didn't know by name, took him by the arm.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you."

"Good grief, what happened to him?" The second paramedic looked down at Steve and shook his head. "Been drinking maybe? Or drugs?"

Mark swallowed down his anger and began to list the injuries he was certain of. "The patient has multiple contusions, lacerations and rib and lung damage. There is also a dislocated shoulder and possible concussion. He regained consciousness briefly and was lucid."

"You're a doctor, right, do you know his name?" the younger of the two paramedics smiled as she spoke but didn't actually look up from where she was taking Steve's vital signs before, with her colleague, placing him on the backboard and carefully beginning to put him in a neck support.

"Yes, Doctor Mark Sloan, head of internal medicine at Community General, he's … he's my son and his name's Steve."

"Sorry, Doc." The male paramedic did look ashamed and Mark waved it away with his hand.

"Forget it. Just get him to the hospital so I can treat him." Mark was packing up the things from Jesse's medical bag as he spoke and so didn't see the look the two medics gave each other.

"Is there anyone else going back?"

"No, yes, no. I … I don't know. There's someone still inside. Maybe … we could … no … but I could …" Mark stopped talking; he wasn't making any sense anyhow and his dilemma wasn't making thinking easy either. It wasn't just someone in there, it was Jesse. Jesse, who had taken hold of the search for Steve twice and made sure that they succeeded. Jesse, who had kept both Steve and himself going, cajoling and even bullying to get them to take their first tentative steps to recovery. Jesse, who had made it easy for Steve to see a therapist, had tried to do the same for him, but he had just thrown it back in his face. He had been so selfish and caught up in his own worries and fears that he hadn't seen the offer for what it was – a genuine desire to help a friend.

The young woman, who appeared to be in charge, watched as the man in front of her seemed to battle with some inner demon. She understood his wish to stay and help the other person if he could, but she could also see his desperate need to go with his son.

"Sir, we have to get Steve to the hospital as soon as we can. Do you want to come or shall we go on ahead?"

The need to make a decision was almost causing him to cease functioning and Mark knew that if he didn't work it out quickly he would be getting medical attention himself. As he took a deep breath, hoping that it would help him to form a coherent answer, he saw Cheryl coming across to him and he turned towards her.

"Jesse? Where's Jesse?"

She paused for a moment, but then, understanding his dilemma, knew that only the truth would do.

"The floor collapsed, he went through from the fourth to the third level. Justin is with him and I just called for a search and rescue helicopter. We need a winch and a Stokes otherwise we aren't going to get him out."

"What injuries does he have?"

"Mark, I don't know. He isn't conscious, but Justin said he is breathing. There's rubble all around him and on him too. I'm sorry."

Mark looked at the beautiful young woman in front of him, the woman who had the unenviable task of keeping his headstrong and wilful son in check during his working hours and heard himself plead with her for advice. "I have to … what … Cheryl, what do I do?"

She didn't think that Mark had ever asked for her help in such a way and Cheryl felt her heart ache for him. Finally, after a few seconds, which seemed like hours, she knew what she had to say, and so, placing a hand on his arm, she began to speak.

"Mark, Steve needs you with him. Jesse won't be alone, not for a minute, I promise you that. And we'll bring him to Community General as soon as he's freed. But you need to leave, now."

For a moment the silence hung between them like a heavy velvet curtain but then Mark nodded his head and looked back to the two paramedics who had finished their preliminary work with Steve and were waiting to get him aboard the chopper.

"Tell him …" Again there was silence. What should he tell him? That he loved him like another son? That Steve saw him as more than a brother and needed him in his life? That he was sorry he'd left but he had no choice? That he couldn't die, because everyone's lives would be forever empty without him? Finally, he swallowed hard and looked at Cheryl with a sad smile, "Tell him I said I'll see him soon."

"Ok. Now go." Cheryl made scooting movements with her hands and smiled at him. She wanted to lean over and kiss his cheek, to let him know that everything would be fine, but she knew that she couldn't do that, not yet anyway.

Mark stopped for a second to glance back at the building which could have so easily been his son's tomb and still had the potential to be just that to Steve's best friend, as well as a young FBI agent, and then with a heart so heavy it was almost impossible to function he followed the gurney onto the chopper.

ooo

Ron Wagner had given up on the OR waiting room about ten minutes after Amanda had been rushed through to surgery. He couldn't sit doing nothing and so he had prowled the hallways for a while until a male orderly had asked him if he needed any assistance and he had been unable to answer.

In the end he headed out into the midday sunshine and, finding himself a seat in a shady area, tried to switch his mind off and forget where he was and why.

He had always been a loner but, after the death of his partner in an air disaster, he realised that he no longer wished to be alone. Amanda had been the first woman who understood the pressures he worked under, been the first to accept that dates would be broken, or interrupted, and been the first to wait for him when he had been assigned overseas.

He was willing to admit, at least to himself, that it had been a steep learning curve dating Amanda, but he knew that she had helped make him a better, more accessible and well-rounded person. He tried to imagine how he would have felt about the entire Melosa situation if he had just been the agent-in-charge but he couldn't do it. Instead all the worries and feelings of dread he had been suppressing since she was taken flooded to the surface.

The kidnap of Steve the first time around had deeply affected Amanda and he had threatened to resign if his two weeks vacation wasn't approved. They had spent a lot of the holiday just being an almost family. He had known CJ since he was a tiny child but Dion was still getting used to him and they had sort of skirted around each other for a while before the beginnings of acceptance had been seen.

Now though, as he sat in the sunshine, he realised, for the first time since he had been a child himself, that the security of a family appealed to him and the desperation he'd felt when he realised just who had taken Amanda became frighteningly real again.

Ron had seen some terrible things in his life, not the least of them the airplane crash which had brought Amanda and him together in the first place, but the treatment that Steve had endured at Melosa's hand had taken his understanding of man's inhumanity to man to new and unwelcome levels.

When he thought of his own beautiful and gentle woman being at the mercy of that monster he had no idea how to marshal his feelings and emotions. He had, for maybe the first time, understood a little of what Mark went through every time Steve put on his badge, went out to protect and serve, and didn't come back. The helplessness of the situation infuriated him and, as he looked down, Ron saw that his hands were held in tight fists.

He took a deep breath, consciously relaxing every muscle in his taut frame and then exhaled. Once he had done that three or four times Ron found he felt much more in control of himself again, and suddenly, as that feeling increased, he knew he had to get back to the OR, so that he could hear and face whatever news would be waiting for him there.

ooo

The sound of the chopper had filled Cheryl with a relief so deep that for a moment she was quite shaky. As a voice suddenly came through on her headset though she shook herself and waved her hand in the air to indicate that it was she who was speaking.

"This is Detective Banks. There are two men on the third level of the warehouse directly below you. One is injured and one isn't. You'll need to be extremely careful, the entire building is unstable and could collapse at any moment."

The reply was brief and business-like and, as she watched in silence, Cheryl saw the winch lower a paramedic down to where Justin and Jesse were waiting.

ooo

Justin had been feeling Jesse's pulse on and off for a little over ten minutes and he knew that it was getting weaker. Without moving the young man, he had been trying to see if there was a reason for the depressing fact but he had finally come to the conclusion that Jesse must be bleeding internally and was dying right in front of his eyes.

Cheryl's voice had told him suddenly, in a disembodied way, that the chopper would be arriving in five minutes and then, after the longest short period of time ever, he heard the sound of the rotor blades as they cut through the air.

The dust and debris in the warehouse was suddenly churned up, causing him to retch and cough while trying to shield both himself and Jesse from any further damage.

The arrival of another person right next to him was a cause for rejoicing and anxiety. Justin felt the floor move in a worrying way as a young man, roughly his own age, was deposited next to him with a medical pack that he immediately started to undo.

"Do you know his name?"

"Yes, it's Travis, Doctor Jesse Travis." Justin heard the young man gasp and looked up at him. "You know him don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. He's a nice guy but man, he's been battered."

Justin looked at Jesse's face and, for the first time, realised that the fall had resulted in bruises and abrasions which had left him with a face that was swollen and, as the medic had said, battered.

"What happened to him?"

"He was rescuing a friend and the upstairs wall collapsed on top of him sending him down from the fourth level to the third."

"That was Steve, right?"

Justin nodded, now that he had looked closely at Jesse's face he didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from it. Finally though he turned his head slightly and watched as the paramedic, who had the nametag Christianson on his shirt, began to take his patient's vital signs and Justin was able to relax and hand over the care of the young man to someone who actually knew what they were doing.

"Jesse, can you hear me? Jesse, it's Tom Christianson. Steve's back at Community General, you saved him, Jesse, now it's time to save you." Tom spoke into his headset for a moment and then the distinctive outline of a Stokes stretcher appeared above them. It was lowered down and Justin shuffled back a little so as not to be an obstruction. As he did so the floor moved again, sending a shower of bricks and wood through to the level below and Jesse was suddenly balanced precariously on the edge of the precipice.

Cursing his stupidity Justin laid himself out flat and grabbed hold of the waistband of Jesse's jeans. It didn't solve the problem, and meant that if Jesse went over then so would he, but he had kept the man safe this long, he wasn't about to lose him now.

"We're gonna have to pull him back. I think that his right leg is broken, but it'll be a case of heave and hope." Tom Christianson's headset was obviously on the same wavelength as Justin's and the voice almost startled him into loosening his hold on Jesse.

Together, with Tom holding Jesse's right arm and Justin at his waist, the two men, one laying on the ground and the other kneeling, began to move Jesse away from the crevasse, gaping by his left side, inch by tiny inch.

The brick dust and cement were all around Justin now and he could taste them. His mouth was dry and his nose was full of the particles, which, he knew, covered every part of him. His head was starting to swim and each time he breathed in it caused a paroxysm of coughing which just increased his problems because it caused the dust to swirl around him even more.

The wind, which had been increasing steadily all day, was now making howling noises as it weaved its way through each new nook and cranny. Little dust funnels were created, played with for a few seconds, and then discarded to fall back to earth and become brick dust once more. Justin, trying hard not to think about the fact that Jesse had fallen one level already and was almost about to do the same thing again, locked his eyes onto a pair of the small whirlwinds and watched them as he edged himself and Jesse back from the side of the chasm.

"It's no good, he must be caught somewhere, he's just not moving." Tom's voice relayed the depressing message and Justin nodded. He had just realised himself that they weren't making the progress they should and so carefully, releasing his grip on Jesse's pants, he edged sidewards until he was past the prone form and able to see into the gap.

Looking down Justin wasn't sure at first what he was actually hoping to see. The area was hollow between the floorboards of the third level and the ceiling of the second but the wood was jagged and rough and it was clear that Jesse's top was caught in more than one place along the splintered edge. Carefully, so that he could test the strength of it, Justin placed a hand on the floor that was beyond Jesse's legs but immediately it creaked and groaned and some of the plaster from the lower level ceiling crashed to the floor below.

"Dammit, that won't work." Justin's mind was foggy, breathing was becoming harder and harder for him and he knew that he had inhaled a lot of stuff which was better left alone.

"What's your name?" Tom's voice broke into his thoughts and he jerked his head up, coughing again as he did so.

"Justin, why?"

"Move back, carefully, Justin, that's it … so that you're the other side of Jesse. Easy does it," Tom paused while the young man coughed and retched again, "one more shuffle should do it." He let out a deep breath and then smiled, "So what's caught?"

"Mmm, what?" Justin knew the question was important but he was finding concentration hard too.

"What part of him's caught? Pants or top?"

"Oh, top, his top."

With a smile Tom reached into his medical pack and brought out a scalpel. He pulled the plastic protector off with his teeth and then, making sure that he had a firm hold on Jesse's arm with one hand, began to slice through the material of the t-shirt. As soon as it was split from neck to hem Jesse jerked free of the gap and Justin, suddenly jolted into action, grabbed him by the leg and pulled him, with Tom, to a safe distance from the hole, just in time to see the newly cleared piece of floor disappear down to the lower level.

"Tarnation, that was close!" Tom let out the breath he was holding and looked again at his companion. "Justin, I'm gonna need your help to get Jesse into the Stokes. Once he's safe they'll send down the winch and you and I will go up together, ok?" As he spoke Tom was putting Jesse's leg into a protective splint and then, knowing from the buffeting that the chopper had received on its outward journey, he bound the two legs together to protect the injury from any further damage on the trip back up to the helicopter.

"Yeah, yeah ok." Justin's voice was croaky from the dryness and so he nodded as he spoke and then, as gently as possible, grasped Jesse's ankles and took the strain as they lifted the doctor up and placed him into the basket-like stretcher. Then he watched from his vantage point as Tom carefully strapped Jesse to what looked like a backboard, covered him with blankets, which had been sent down in the Stokes, and fastened him into the stretcher with straps across his knees, hips and chest.

A short instruction was relayed by Tom and the Stokes rose into the air, heading straight upwards until suddenly, as it cleared the building and the wind took it, the stretcher smashed into what remained of the front wall. As it bounced back again both men looked up anxiously, but it was too far away for either of them to see if Jesse was ok.

The wall, that had been so recently buffeted, teetered for a few agonising seconds, and then, as if wanting to make its final seconds memorable, collapsed back into the room in a slow and almost graceful movement.

The dust that rose up covered Justin and he felt himself begin to cough and heave before the room faded away around him.

ooo

The journey back to Community General began a reawakening in Mark. He watched his son being treated realising, and accepting, that he was, for the time being at least, just a bystander but knowing that once they arrived at the hospital he would retake his rightful place in Steve's life. After a while a message came through that Jesse was safe and he moved slightly so that he could take hold of Steve's left hand and, as he held on to it, he finally let himself hope for a positive future.